ir. M. des Amis
closed the door, and turned to the applicant, who rose at once.

"Where have you studied?" quoth the fencing-master abruptly.

"Studied?" Andre-Louis was taken aback by the question. "Oh, at Louis Le
Grand."

M. des Amis frowned, looking up sharply as if to see whether his
applicant was taking the liberty of amusing himself.

"In Heaven's name! I am not asking you where you did your humanities,
but in what academy you studied fencing."

"Oh--fencing!" It had hardly ever occurred to Andre-Louis that the sword
ranked seriously as a study. "I never studied it very much. I had some
lessons in... in the country once."

The master's eyebrows went up. "But then?" he cried. "Why trouble to
come up two flights of stairs?" He was impatient.

"The notice does not demand a high degree of proficiency. If I am not
proficient enough, yet knowing the rudiments I can easily improve. I
learn most things readily," Andre-Louis commended himself. "For the
rest: I possess the other qualifications. I am young, as you observe:
and I leave you to judge whether I am wrong in assuming that my address
is good. I am by profession a man of the robe, though I realize that the
motto here is cedat toga armis."

M. des Amis smiled approvingly. Undoubtedly the young man had a good
address, and a certain readiness of wit, it would appear. He ran a
critical eye over his physical points. "What is your name?" he asked.

Andre-Louis hesitated a moment. "Andre-Louis," he said.

The dark, keen eyes conned him more searchingly.

"Well? Andre-Louis what?"

"Just Andre-Louis. Louis is my surname."

"Oh! An odd surname. You come from Brittany by your accent. Why did you
leave it?"

"To save my skin," he answered, without reflecting. And then made haste
to cover the blunder. "I have an enemy," he explained.

M. des Amis frowned, stroking his square chin. "You ran away?"

"You may say so.

"A coward, eh?"

"I don't think so." And then he lied romantically. Surely a man who
lived by the sword should have a weakness for the romantic. "You see, my
enemy is a swordsman of great strength--the best blade in the province,
if not the best blade in France. That is his repute. I thought I would
come to Paris to learn something of the art, and then go back and kill
him. That, to be frank, is why your notice attracted me. You see, I have
not the means to take lessons otherwise. I thought to find work here in
the law. But I have failed. Ther